


Whispers in the Dark

by Breagen



Series: The call of Elune [4]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Study, Death, F/F, F/M, Love, True Love, mentioned death, mentioned execution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breagen/pseuds/Breagen
Summary: The Spires of Ascension are under attack. The forces of Forsworn’s quickly gained a significant ground of the Kyrian's sanctuary while the Bastion's firstborn is fighting for her life against one of her beloved Paragons. Will the reinforcement of Maw Walkers make it in time to save one of the most important areas of Bastion? Let's find out together.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: The call of Elune [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639633
Kudos: 1





	Whispers in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'd like to present a short story set in WoW universe.
> 
> Please, note that it's the part of the story, so some character might have been introduced in the previous parts or might not have been introduced yet.
> 
> I hope you'll like it :D I must admit that I have to experiment a bit during writing that piece of text, let me know what you think :D
> 
> Changelog:  
> 2021-01-01: The whole chapter was posted.

The cacophonic sounds of the battle slowly started to die out when the day was about to end. The cold wind began to blow, filling the air with a chilling sensation. There were no reasons for any sort of celebrations. The spires of ascension were still in distress, covered in blood and ashes. The numerous steps scattered all over the Kyrian sanctuary, from now on would be known as signs of bloody history. Wherever one’s sight would linger, the chaos would be found. Dozens if not hundreds of corpses could be spotted all over the massive complex. It did not really matter where their allegiance lied, in the end, their fate was the same. Death, how ridiculous the concept of death sounds in the realm of the afterlife? Still, it seemed that the only inevitable found its way to Kyrian’s lands, bending their will to its desires. The bodies of rebellious Forsworn lied right next to the still loyal disciplined. Do you think the death hesitated, even for a fraction of second before taking lives? Do you believe that it distinguishes the rebels and loyal? No, sadly, such a concept could not have been found there.

Forsworn’s attack took its toll onto the sanctuary. The wildfires still were ruling over some complex’s areas, turning the corpses into ash, taking lives that should not be taken. The massive statues, numerous construction that were a clear feat of Kyrian’s strength and advance, they were currently shattered, lying in ruins. Those Forsworns that were still breathing decided that it was high time for a retreat. The only place where the fight was happening was the top level of the spire. There, lied the seat where the Archon would usually observe the prosperity of her realm. She was currently forced to fight against one of her beloved Paragons, she was forced to fight for her life.

The majestic level could be considered the past by now. As far as the eyes could see, every single aspect of the seat was destroyed or seriously damaged during the fight. The blood of the angel-like soldiers was sprayed all over the damaged floor. The Archon, considered by many the single most powerful being in Bastion, struggled to keep up with her fallen Paragon. Across her majestic frame, the wounds could be easily spotted. The attire was shredded to pieces, soaked in her own blood. For years, Kyrestia the Firstborne have not encountered anyone or anything that could fight her as equal. Yet, Devos, the beloved, ever loyal Devos seemed to be surpassing her. Was it her mistake when she did not hear out her Paragon some time ago? Was it the reason why Devos abandoned the Kyrians, pledging her allegiance to the Old One? There were so many questions that were left unanswered. Yet, there was little to none time for that. Currently, the time was of the essence.

Bastion’s firstborn child tried everything she could to turn the tide of her duel in her favour. She was so focused on that ever-important task that she did not notice the slight change on the battlefield. As if from a distance the Archon began hearing the shouts in foreign languages. In an instant, Kyrestia averted her gaze off her opponent to peek a look what caused the sudden change. The fallen Paragon took the granted opportunity and stroke swiftly, piercing the stomach of the Bastion’s firstborn. The Archon gasped abruptly, then screamed in agony. Devo’s spear must have been covered in some sort of poison, cause the burning sensation was only growing stronger. Kyrian’s covenant leader felt like someone was filling her insides with ember coals with every passing second. She fell onto the cold, devasted, and soaked with blood floor, groaning and hissing alternatively. Her sight was shrinking over time. The last thing the Bastion’s leader managed to see was Devos being attacked by numerous combatants.

When Kyrestia finally awoke, everything hurt her. Her physical vessel was ravaged by the burning sensation and pain. At least a couple of prolonged moments took the Bastion’s firstborn to open the eyes. The Archon was still lying on the soaked ground, but some people were kneeling, tending her wounds before her. She could feel the healing magic penetrating her damaged tissues. The warm glowing lights associated with that magic school were seen by the Kyrian’s leader.

“Who… who are you?” Kyrestia managed to breath out. “Aghhh,” she groaned immediately after.

“My Archon, please, stay still,” the soft voice of the nearest woman sounded. “You’ve been hit pretty hard. Before your vessel can heal itself, we need to extract the poison out of you,” she added, bowing with respect.

“Child… are you Kyrian?” the Archon asked weakly. “Your… your armour seems to be… similar to ours.”

“Oh… my Archon,” the blond-haired woman replied. “I’m Taerith, I’m a paladin that joined your covenant some time ago,” she added.

“Tearith… you were the one who sought the audience with me, weren’t you?” the Bastion’s firstborn asked. “You were the one who brought us the grime news,” she added with more confidence in her voice.

“Yes,” the paladin simply replied, lowering her head.

“Who are these people?” Kyrestia asked, pointing out at the other combatants.

“The intel that the spires are being attacked caught us in Ardenweald,” the blonde replied. “To secure enough men power to break the siege, I needed to renew a contract with someone,” she added, in passing.

“I assume… you’re referring to that woman,” the Kyrian’s leader stated, pointing out at the woman clothed in Night Fea’s renowned plate armour.

“Yes… her name is Sammara,” Taerith answered with sadness clearly heard in her tone.

“You’re upset, my adept,” the covenant leader said in a slightly colder voice. “You know perfectly that to seek ascension, you need to leave your previous life behind,” she added in a stern voice.

“My Archon, sometimes it isn’t so easy to let go of some parts of one’s life,” the paladin replied in a sad tone. “I won’t discuss that matter in details, it just hurt too much. Forgive me for my insubordination, my master,” she added with a pleading voice.

“If that’s what you truly want, fine,” Kyrestia commented. “What happened with Devos?” she asked immediately.

“She’s wounded, but still takes a breath,” the blonde informed the leader. “Sammara decided that the fallen Paragon committed crimes mostly against you, so it’s you up to you to decide about her fate,” she provided an explanation.

“She’s wiser than her age would suggest,” the eternal leader of Bastion uttered with some admiration in her voice.

“You could describe her as such, my Archon,” Taerith replied, not looking at the discussed woman.

“Please, call her out, I want to talk with her,” the Kyrian’s leader made a request, but make no mistake it was a direct order, demand.

“As you wish, master,” the blond-haired paladin nodded obediently.

Without a single word more, the recently recruited Maw Walker stood up and headed toward the woman called Sammara. Even though Taerith tied to looked as emotionless as she possibly could, she failed miserably. The hesitation and the doze of feelings that the Archeon could not name properly were shattering the woman’s composure. Still, the blond-haired blood elf fulfilled her leader’s request. Just a couple of moments later, the said paladin was coming back toward the wounded Archon with the rescue group’s leader a few steps behind her. The Night Fea’s champion discarded her helmet, revealing her long white hair and golden eyes. In comparison to Taerith, Sammara’s face showed nothing, it was perfectly motionless.

“I am sorry that we could not arrive sooner, Archon,” Sammara immediately spoke as soon as the gap between them was closed. “Many good Kyrians died because of that. Please, accept my condolence and the offer of help to rebuild the spires,” the night elf woman added with a nod, showing her respect.

“Some lives can’t be rescued, mortal, you know that,” the Kyrian’s leader said, her voice filled with confidence and pride.

“But of course. Still, I would prefer to arrive sooner,” the snowy-white-haired night elf responded. “The fallen Paragon, Devos, was quite troublesome, I must admit,” she added, looking at the chained Paragon of Loyalty.

“Yes, indeed she seemed to grow stronger in times when my sight was uplifted from her,” Kyrestia admitted with a slight nod. “It’s so painful for me to see one of my beloved Paragons falling to this disease,” she added with the rage in her voice.

“What is your judgment, then?” Sammara asked in a plain, slightly bored tone. “As Taerith most likely mentioned, I left that decision to you,” she added.

“I’m grateful that you did,” the Bastion’s firstborn replied with admiration. “I’d love to spare her life,” she started in a nostalgic tone. “But… the law must be preserved. Devos’s actions led to the death of many, and the only rightful punishment for that is death,” the woman continued her judgment with sorrow filling her voice. “Goodbye, my beloved Devos,” she whispered.

“I will perform the execution myself,” Sammara stated. “A couple of people whom I am leading died because of her. If your decision is sealed, I will finish the problem at once,” the night elf woman added.

“It is,” the Archon replied in a grave tone. “You can proceed.”

“No!!!” the blond-haired paladin rose her voice. “She can still be saved!” she exclaimed.

“Even if, it is not up to you to make a decision of her fate,” the snowy-white-haired night elf said emotionlessly. “There is law in this world, we are just an instrument in its hands.”

“No, we are not!” Taerith shouted. “She made mistakes, I understand that. Still, she deserves to live,” she continued to argue.

“Why would she deserve to live when so many perished because of her?” Sammara asked still not rising her voice even at slightest.

“My Archon, I know that you’re hurt by her betrayal, but…,” the blood elf paladin started.

“That’s enough, child!” the Kyrian’s leader silenced her protégé. “As Sammara said, the decision is sealed. I’m sorry, child, but the hands of fate can’t be forced,” she added in a bit softer tone.

“That’s not true!” Taerith shouted. “Sammara, your own father said that sometimes the fate must be forced for some events to occur,” she tried to reason. “Devos was once known as Paragon of Loyalty, she deserted because the path that was put before her had flaws. I strongly believe that we can find a new direction for her with the right guidance and time. I believe that one day she can be a great ally to our cause,” she provided further explanation.

“Who would you assign to observe the correction of her?” the Bastion’s finest asked.

“If you deem me worthy… I’ll oversee the fallen Paragon,” Taerith stuttered.

“I would strongly discourage you from assigning her for that particular task, Archon,” Sammara said with the voice filled with concern.

“I don’t follow your orders!” the blood elf paladin shouted.

“Leave us, all of you,” Sammara turned around swiftly and ordered the whole group with a stern voice. “It seems that the matter is more private than I initially anticipated. Please, I will answer your questions later,” she added more softly.

“As you wish, Sammara,” the tall night elf female demon hunter responded in the name of the entire group.

Within a couple of moments, the combatants left the Archon’s platform. As soon as the last of the soldiers vanished from their sight, the snowy-white-haired night elf sighed heavily. It seemed as if she tried to find the right words for anything she wanted to say. It was apparent that the woman was upset and moved by the blood elf female’s offer.

“You are right,” Sammara slowly said with her eyes closed. “My father did say these words, and look where he is right now.”

“It was his choice to make the sacrifice,” the blond-haired paladin pointed out. “You can’t order me not to follow my own path. I don’t think he’d approve such behaviour of yours.”

“Do not ever dare to talk about my father, ever again,” the golden-eyed night elf uttered in a cold low tone. “I have lost too many people dear to me because of the behaviour that you are currently showing,” she added.

“What do you mean?” the Archon asked genuinely interested.

Out of a sudden, the magical power in its purest form started to fluctuate all around Sammara. Within moments, the strands of the snow-white colour began to stir to life. The ever so calm aura of the night elf woman was utter chaos currently. Only Sammara’s strong willpower prevented the accumulated magical essence from busting out. The woman’s eyes were shut closed, but the tears could be spotted rolling out from them. Taerith knew exactly what caused such behaviour out of Sammara.

“Your sister, my beloved Theril, died because she believed that she could persuade Sylvanas to stop the bloodshed!” scream filled with pain escaped the throat of the white-haired woman. “She was killed right before my very eyes, and I could not do anything. Please, Taerith, do not make me go through that again,” she pleaded.

“I’m not my sister,” the blood elf female responded with sadness in her voice. “I’m her twin, I’m physically the same her. You should have bid your final goodbye a long time ago,” she added while shedding tears.

“I can not!” the night elf admitted in a low tone.

Her powerful frame was shaking with convulsions. She could not stop crying. She could not stop emitting the magical energy that started to form a shape not far from where she stood. When the forming process finished, Sammara fell onto her knees, starting to hit the ground with both of her hands. The sobbing turned into loud weeping that the white-haired could not control anymore. A few steps away from Sammara, the perfect clone of Taerith stood, smiling a little.

“You’re to blame for her death!” the blood elf woman accused the golden-eyed elf. “If she never met you, she’d still be alive!” she shouted.

“I know,” Sammara wailed.

“Not only you killed her, but… you killed part of me!” the paladin threw at the kneeling soldier. “I must have buried part of me because I couldn’t stand the thought that my sister wouldn’t be there for me anymore!”

Kyrestia did not interrupt the conversation between two women. Even though it contained everything that she stood against, she found it intriguing. However, Sammara’s magical creation caught her attention from the very first moment it formed entirely. There was no point in denying the feeling that the night elf woman had toward Taerith’s sister. The magical creation was perfect, flawless. In so many ways, it could easily fool anyone to think that it lived. Still, the Archon felt that something was not precisely as it should be. The ethereal woman turned around to face the argument. It seemed as if some part of Threil lived inside Sammara’s heart and was unleashed with the enormous magical essence emitted. If it appeared to be the truth, then the Bastion’s leader would fear who the white-haired woman in fact was.

“You can’t prevent me from going into my sister’s steps!” Tearith shouted. “Don’t you see that Theril did the same for you?! She took the risk just because she loved you because she believed that you could be together! You were sent to the suicidal mission, you were about to die, but she interfered, which led to her death!” the blood elf woman continued to shout. “She found you valuable enough to risk everything, why can’t I do the same for Devos?!” she asked.

“Because… it can lead to your own death,” Sammara whispered. “I have failed your sister, I should have died instead of her. When she was buried, I promised her that I will not allow you to die. That I will protect you as much as I can,” she confessed, still crying.

“Sammy, you’ll never change,” the sound of oh-so-familiar for both women voice sounded near. “You should have forgiven yourself a long time ago.”

Faster than one would anticipate both of the women turned around to face the direction the voice was coming from. The clone of Thril was standing still, facing the women with a smile playing on its kissable lips.

“How?” Sammara managed to mumble.

“Oh… and I thought between two of us you’re always the smarter one,” the ethereal shape giggled. “Before you start asking million and one questions, I’ll try to explain it in as many details as I can,” Theril added, silencing the night elf woman. “I still died that day, but the part of me was all that time inside of you, my dear. I told you that at least a million times. You’ve always had that nasty habit of placing blame on yourself. You still keep doing it even if you aren’t to blame,” the blood elf ethereal woman added with affection easily visible on her face. “I loved you, I love you, and I’ll always love you. Sadly, I can’t walk with you that way. I died, you live, it is that simple,” she smiled. “You have a new family that cares deeply for your wellbeing. I’m not mad at you, I’m not really. The last thought that ran through my mind before the death was how would you deal with me being gone. I’m glad that you haven’t given up. I’m happy that you found happiness again. And… I’m thankful that you still kept protecting my sister even if it brought you an immense amount of pain. Sammara, honey, please, forgive yourself. On my end… I’ve never blamed me for what happened. It was my choice all the way through. I still cherish every single moment that we manage to spend together. Maybe… just maybe, you’ll find me here, in the afterlife, but it’s most likely that I wouldn’t remember a thing. Don’t hurt yourself more, just go on. Live without me, but remember, I’ll always love you the same as I did the very first day we shared our first kiss, first night together,” Theril added with the broadest smile she could muster. “And… now, sleep, my beloved Sammara,” she whispered, coming toward the still crying night elf woman.

“Theril, I… I love you,” Sammara managed to whisper before the ethereal shape put her into sleep.

“Sister?” Taerith called the magical shape.

“Taerith, I’m so proud of you,” Theril said with softness in her voice. “I know that it’s easier to put the blame on Sammara, but she isn’t the one responsible for my death, Sylvanas is. If you need to place your rage, your wrath at someone, she’s the perfect candidate for that. You might not believe it, but Sammara’s life is worth so much more than mine. And… if I was to make the same decision today, I wouldn’t hesitate. Remember, Taerith, I love you, I’ll always, and she’ll do anything in her power to make you safe,” she added, pointing out on the sleeping night elf.

“I love you too,” the blood elf paladin replied, wiping out her tears. “I’d love to have you by my side,” she whispered.

“I’d love that too, but fate decided otherwise,” the blood elf’s clone responded in a low tone. “Please, don’t be too hard for her,” she added.

“I’ll try,” the paladin promised.

“Farewell, sister, my time comes,” Theril said, vanishing into the air.

“Farewell,” the Kyrian’s champion whispered, hanging her head low.

The silence fell upon them. For at least a couple of prolonged minutes, no one said anything, nor moved every an inch. The Bastion’s firstborn must admit that whatever happened before her eyes could not be described with words. She was aware that the magic was a powerful creation tool, but that… it exceeded her wildest expectations.

“What will happen with Devos?” Taerith asked out of a sudden.

“I’m naming you her overseer,” Kyrestia responded with confidence. “I think that the fate of our realms is in right hands,” she added, looking directly at Sammara. “I believe that the incident with Devos’s rebellion showed me that the path I set out for my follower had flaws. I’ll need to rethink the Kyrians approach, improve what is valuable, and discard what is wrong,” she announced.

“Thank you, my Archon,” the blond-haired paladin replied, sneaking a peek at the sleeping lover of her sister, then focusing her attention onto Devos.

“I’ll return you to the Light,” the blood elf promised to herself.


End file.
